Posts Tagged ‘Il Complesso Barocco’

What I love about hitting shuffle on the iPod is that way it can throw out not only something that I haven’t heard in a long time but something that I don’t know that well.

Se il mar promette calma from Handel’s Lotario is an example. It’s not an opera I know at all well and this aria – for bass – doesn’t even ring the most distant memory.

A shame as it’s a jaunty number for the remarkably named character Clodomiro and here sung by Vito Priante accompanied by Il Complesso Barocco and Alan Curtis.

From what I can understand it’s one of those typical simile arias about crossing a stormy sea, which in baroque terms is all about overcoming adversity. You can’t beat a good simile aria and I love Metastasio’s perfect model.

The aria itself is incredibly simple yet both elegant and effective. The string accompaniment and running bass in the continuo are clearly meant to refer to the sea and wind and the playing of Il Complesso is both exemplary and exhilarating.

The vocal line itself is surprisingly florid for a bass aria and from what I can gather for a secondary character but Priante delivers the aria with both gusto and incredible musicianship. Not only are the more florid passages managed with great skill and a beautiful legato line but also his voice is both mellifluous and resonant through his entire range. And the returning da capo is tastefully decorated.

This is an aria that shouldn’t be anything less than a recital item for bass singers.

As I said, I love it when something like this happens and now I am off to listen to the entire opera.

Her current project – Drama Queens– needs no introduction. The CD, the incredibly successful recital tour and of course, the dress, have had more than a few superlative column inches.

I don’t agree with those who say that dusting off forgotten composers is – for wont of a better word – a waste of time. Absolutely not. Not only can they reveal music of the great beauty – as Drama Queens has – but just as importantly they help in building a clearer picture and context around those composers who are still household names.

And on Wednesday night the tour arrived in the UK. So often it’s a case that the live recital doesn’t live up to the recording or vice versa.

This was definitely not true at The Barbican.

It was an evening of stunning musicianship, incredible virtuosity and universal pleasure – not only for the audience but clearly for Ms DiDonato herself and the members of Il Complesso Barocco who excitedly revelled in the music making.

The moment that clinched it for me – and for everyone around me I think – was her heart-stopping performance of Piangerò la sorte mia from Giulio Cesare. On the recital disc I originally thought it was slightly on the fast side but seeing her sing it live, watching the emotions conveyed, I was totally captivated by the intensity of her performance.

But it was a recital that delivered with each and every piece.

You would have assumed that Ms DiDonato would have opened the entire recital with anger and musical fireworks. No. In what was an incredibly daring – almost risky – move, the evening opened with an incredibly moving rendition of Cesti’s Intorno all’idol mio supported with great delicacy by the pared down orchestra. Ms DiDonato scaled down her voice accordingly but not the emotional temperature. The simple beauty of her delivery, weighing each and every word and phrase was hypnotic.

And this was continued after she sat through a brisk and vigorous Scarlatti sinfonia (from Tolomeo ed Alessandro) into Disprezzata regina from L’Incoronazione di Poppea. This Ottavia was no shrinking violet resigned to her fate and the mezzo dug deep into the words to convey the pain, anguish and anger of this angry woman spurned. The way she literally spat out In braccio di Poppea was a masterclass in declamation in itself.

And without a break the ensemble launched into the first of the arias “rediscovered” as part of this project – Giacomelli’s Sposa, son disprezzata. Elegantly supported by the orchestra Ms DiDonato finally delivered the trademarks of her singing – a rich and resonant mezzo soprano voice, beautifully controlled dynamic and colouring and the most delicately spun filigree vocal line.

Perfect.

Then most unexpectedly a Vivaldi concerto – Per Pisendel – by Dmitry Sinkovsky and the orchestra. I have to admit while it was brilliantly – if at times at times a tad too brittle in tone – played it brought down the emotional temperature of the concert to that point.

The first part of the recital closed with bright and sparky performance of Orlandini’s Da torbida procella from Berenice. Ms DiDonato flung out the divisions with confident abandon and gently “bopped” along to the music.

The second half and an evolved frock – that was much appreciated by the audience – opened with an aria from Hasse’s Antonio e Cleopatra. And then, as mentioned as perfect as can be performance of Handel’s Piangerò la sorte mia. The searing intensity of this performance caught everyone by surprise and there was that magical moment of complete silence before the audience showed their appreciation.

After the Handel the passacaglia from Radamisto was a very welcome orchestral interlude. In a strange way it didn’t dissolve the intensity of the previous aria but – almost like a sorbet – cleansed the palette in preparation for what must be one of the most beautiful performances from the recital disc – Porta’s Madre diletta, abbraciami.

And here Ms DiDonato did not disappoint. Sung with great poignancy, this lilting siciliana carried the emotional momentum forward. As with the rest of the arias performed on the evening, the singer’s intelligent embellishments added the right balance of emotional weight and virtuosity in each and every da capo return.

After two delicately played ballet movements from Gluck’s Armide the concert proper closed with Brilla nell’anima from Handel’s Alessandro. Alert, bright and joyously sung it was a fitting end to a brilliant concert.

But Ms DiDonato did not disappoint with her two encores. It’s a mark of her homespun style that Joyce DiDonato didn’t only take the time to express her enthusiasm for the Drama Queen project and her collaboration with Alan Curtis but also Dame Westwood and her team for “the dress”.

The first was the perfect compliment to Piangerò and again a personal favourite from the disc, Lasciami piangere from Keiser’s Fredegunda. Time literally seemed to stop as Ms DiDonato spun out a beautifully poised performance of this deceptively simply aria. For me it surpassed even the earlier performance of Piangerò.

But no recital should end with emotional heartbreak and therefore the Yankee Diva left us with a most fiery Col Versar, barbaro, il sangue from Orlandini’s Berenice and a final reminder of the da caop from Brilla nell’arma.

And quite rightly the audience came to their feet to applaud this most perfect evening. I may be partisan, bias – call it what you will – but rarely have I attended a recital of such musical brilliance, intelligence, passion and quite frankly, swaggering verve.

I only hope that EMI realise what an amazing project this is and find the resources and determination to record Drama Queens on DVD.

And it’s no lie that the first thing I did when I returned home was to check if I could possibly see this performance again.

Joyce DiDonato’s new album, Drama Queens is – in terms of its high standards of musicianship, exuberant performance and clear passion to perform previously unperformed and undiscovered arias – quite simply the most enjoyable and extraordinary album released this year.

Superlatives over. For now.

It must be a remarkable feeling not only to find – in my romantic mind’s eye – among stacks of dusty manuscripts in the corners of remote libraries arias by unknown composers but then also to perform them.

It’s clearly a trend. Recently Ms Kermes performed arias by composers such as de Mayo and Porpora who are – to a greater extent than before – known to the audience. But on her new recital disc Ms DiDonato delves deeper to bring to life the music of composers who have effectively been forgotten for centuries.

And their juxtaposition with the likes of Handel, Hasse, Gluck and Haydn reveals something more startling – that the common perception that they simply ‘weren’t very good’ is not necessarily true. I am not saying that the quality of their music consistently reached the standard of the aforementioned but neither can I believe that these individual arias are simply creative flukes.

And granted it takes a singer of the calibre of Ms DiDonato supported by the excellent Il Complesso Barocco under Alan Curtis to make this music, quite literally, sing.

There is not a weak link in the recital either in terms of the arias chosen or the performances. Yet personally some of the arias stand out more than others.

The opening aria, Da torbida procella from Giuseppe Maria Orlandini’s Berenice, with its overtones of Vivaldi and balance of declamatory phrases and florid passages is a fitting opening track to the recital and Ms DiDonato sets a standard that keeps on rising. The second aria taken from Berenice is another vocal tour de force, the incredibly florid vocal writing holding absolutely no terrors for the singer.

Keiser is possibly the most exciting composer on the disc. Fredegunda’s Lasciami piangere is simply haunting and it is the sonority of the orchestral writing as well as the poignancy of the in-built pauses which are, in some ways, as surprising as Ms DiDonato’s heartfelt delivering of the lilting vocal line. Similarly, the deceptively simple Geloso, sospetto from his opera Octavia with its multiple bassoon obbligato is a real gem.

More Keiser please.

Geminiano Giacomelli’s Merope reveals Sposa, son disprezzata. Again its almost Vivaldian shading and orchestral writing support a vocal line spun out above, and in the da capo Ms Donato finds just the right balance of ornamentation to create an greater emotional impact.

Ms Donato also delves right back to Monteverdi and Cesti with style and expertise, modulating the richness of her voice to this earlier music and finding the right colours to bring this music to life. And all with perfect clarity of diction, a trademark of the entire disc in fact.

Ms Donato also includes selections from Handel Hasse. They are beautiful sung with panache but – and perhaps – because they are better known, they do not grab me in the same way as the other arias. But they do serve a purpose, as I have already said, to demonstrate that the other composers on this disc deserve a better place.

The last two selections on the disc are by Haydn and Gluck respectively but drawn from their operas based on the story of Armida. I remember first hearing Vedi, se t’amo … Odio, furor, dispetto on the Dorati set with Jessye Norman and beginning a life-long love of Haydn’s operas. Here Ms Donato delivers an impassioned performance, breathless and fiery in equal measure. The flip side of the emotional coin is Gluck’s Ah! Si la liberte me doit etre ravie sung with a simplicity that packs quite a punch.

However, it is the Giovanni Porta’s haunting preghiera Madre diletta from Iphigenia in Aulide, the second track on the disc, which steals the show in the entire recital. Ms Donato and the players relentlessly drive this siciliana forward. Again the singer and players finds the perfect balance in the returning da capo in terms of ornamentation – the return of Madre, spun out is breathtaking. I cannot believe there was a dry eye in the house when this aria was first performed. It has become a favourite.

Ms Donato is in London in the New Year as part of her tour to promote this album. In reality while I may wax lyrical about the brilliance of this album, don’t take it from me, listen to Joyce DiDonato herself.

Here’s a conundrum. When can an exceptional recital disc be marred by trying to cram too much into it?

For me this seems the case with this recital of arias and duets from Handel’s oratorios performed by Karina Gauvin and Marie Nicole Lemieux.

Having seen both of them in an outstanding concert performance of Alcina (alongside an incredibly heroic Joyce DiDonato) with Il Complesso Barocco conducted by Alan Curtis, it seemed only a matter of time before the two joined forces for a recital disc under Curtis’ direction.

While their decision to focus on Handel’s magnificent oratorios initially struck me as slightly unusual– and understandably they avoid any inclusions from The Messiah – this is in fact a superlative disc. Let’s be clear, they face inevitable comparison from Carolyn Sampson and countertenor Robin Blaze and their own oratorio disc released some years ago. Truth be told that remains a favourite recital disc of mine – Sampson’s wonderfully bright soprano coupled with Blaze’s clarion-like countertenor produces wonderfully intuitive music making. Whether by deliberate intention or accidental choice of repertoire, the Gauvin/Lemieux recital includes both duets and solo arias with few duplicate selections.

However what defines this new disc is a real sensuality in the performances as opposed to the almost chaste performances of the Sampson/Blaze recital disc. Don’t get me wrong, theirs are beautiful and often breathtaking performances, but the emotional reaction for me comes from the purity of their voices rather than any sense of emotion.

At fifteen tracks this new disc seems incredibly generous, so I was a little surprised to be left with a sense that a shorter selection would have made for a more enjoyable experience.

Without a doubt it is the duets that stand out appropriately so as it is the contrast of the vocal light and shade of Gauvin and Lemieux that lends this recital disc that aura of sensuality. The arias – with a few exceptions – do not match the emotional intensity of the duets and personally, ultimately seem to detract from the overall experience.

The disc opens with Destructive War, Thy Name Is Known from Belshazzar and Lemieux is in fine fettle, throwing out the coloratura with ease and supported by jaunty playing from the ensemble. However, it’s not the strongest opening argument for the disc which is why it seems a daring choice for the second track to be what must count as one of the finest duets, from either oratorio or opera, that Handel ever wrote – the heart-wrenching To Thee, Thou Glorious Son of Worth, from the second act of Theodora. Again a comparison unconsciously comes to kind – that of Lorraine Hunt-Lieberson and David Daniels in Peter Sellar’s unforgettable staging of the oratorio at Glyndebourne. Perhaps one of the most original stagings of Handel and fortunately – not only for Hunt-Lieberson’s unforgettable performance but also Sellars’ intelligent production and direction – caught for posterity on DVD. In comparison to the Sampson/ Blaze performance, Curtis chooses a slightly faster tempo but none of the beauty of the vocal writing or the tragedy of the duet is lost. And it is here that that feeling of sensuality comes to the fore, perhaps its the plangent bassoon, so clearly heard in the opening ritornello, that sets the mood which is underlined by how beautifully the voices of Gauvin and Lemieux intertwine and weave against each other. However Curtis does not allow the singers too much indulgence, maintaining a rhythmic alertness throughout – just listen to the precise delivery of the rhythmic line in the second section. Another wonderful touch happens with the return to the first section. As I’ve mentioned previously – and Curtis is somewhat guilty of this in the recording of Alcina – there can be a tendency to over-ornament da capo sections. Fortunately this is not the case here. Another nice touch is how in the da capo of this particular duet it is Lemieux who leads, ornamenting her vocal line that is then mimicked by Gauvin. A beautiful touch – and psychological insight of the two characters perhaps? – which helps to make this one of the highlights of the entire disc and therefore surprising to hear it so early in to the recital.

The remaining duets are all as impeccably performed with a real sense of drama. For example even the short duet From This Dread Scene from Judas Maccabeus, with its crisp martial accompaniment, is memorable. Both soloists capture and clearly enjoy the inherent drama in this short yet incentive duet.

Theodora’s Streams of Pleasure Everflowing, from which the CD takes its title, reminded me how this oratorio contains some of Handel’s most inspired music in English. Lemieux opens in suitably reverent tone, her creamy contralto wrapping itself wonderfully around the words. When Gauvin joins her, the effect as their vocal lines entwine is magical. Just listen to the wonderful pointed phrasing at ‘All the blissful holy choir’, especially in their mini-cadenza, to feel how in tune these two performers really are.

Our Limpid Streams With Freedom Flow from Joshua is the least effective duet on the disc. While this is a clean cut performance, wonderfully sung, it strikes more as a track filler for what follows – a remarkable performance of Can I See My Infant Gor’d from Solomon. Without a doubt the bass line and hesitant strings above are meant to represent the anguished thoughts of the mother, and Gauvin’s performance captures the mood perfectly, particularly as her diction is absolutely clear. The closing bars from ‘Spare my child, take him all’ is incredibly poignant.

The final track on the disc, and a worthy counterpoint to the first duet is the magnificent duet Great Victor, At Your Feet I Bow from Belshazzar. This is a beautifully crafted piece with Handel so brilliantly capturing the opposing emotions of the two protagonists. Gauvin and Lemieux fit the roles perfectly, the chaste and mournful queen and the young, impetuous yet magnanimous Persian king, investing their words with a real sense of meaning and passion.

Of the remaining arias, Lemieux provides a heart-stopping performance of As With Rosy Steps The Morn. The hushed orchestral opening is matched by the contralto’s own entry. I was once again reminded of Hunt-Lieberson’s haunting performance of this aria. Lemieux’s interpretation, balancing the restraint of the opening section with the increased emotional temperature of the middle section, makes this performance more than a worthy successor.

Joseph And His Brethren is rarely performed which is a shame based on Gauvin’s performance of Prophetic Raptures Swell My Breast. Clearly this aria was written for a soloist with an incredibly technique – not less evidenced by the opportunity for a cadenza at the soprano’s first entry. Research informs me it was written for Elisabeth Duparc, also known as La Francesina and for whom Handel also wrote the title role in Semele.

At almost nine minutes, this is a substantial aria and Gauvin delivers an impeccable and cheerful performance, throwing off the countless runs effortlessly. The minor mode middle section is memorable for the sudden shift in mood, and at the da capo Ms Gauvin’s ornamentation stays clearly on the side of intelligent – and perfectly delivered – addition rather than being over-florid and undermining the music.

Gauvin’s performance of My Father! Ah! Methinks I See The Sword from Hercules is suitably grief-laden. Written for the character Iole, it is one of Handel’s finest arioso-cum-arias. Despite the less melancholy second section, Peaceful Rest With Verdant Shade, Handel maintains an overall air of tragedy til the end.

Curtis and Il Complesso Barocco – as ever – provide keen and alert accompaniment throughout and as I have mentioned above, show incredible restraint is shown in terms of ornamentation of the reprised da capo sections. It has been suggested to me that this is due to the fact that the selections are from oratorios and a nod to the less secular content of the music itself. However I don’t buy into this considering that Baroque and early Classical composers as whole imported their operatic mannerisms wholesale into ecclesiastical music as a whole.

Without a doubt, Stream of Pleasure is a superlative disc. The quality of the performances cannot be faulted and both Karina Gauvin and Marie Nicole Lemieux do not disappoint in the high standard of their musicianship. However, when I return to this disc – which I will do often – I have a feeling that I will be programming my selection in advance to provide myself with a bespoke, shorter and ultimately more satisfying listen.

Having enjoyed both Karina Gauvin and Marie-Nicole Lemieux at a recent concert performance of Ariodante alongside the most wonderful Joyce DiDonato, I decided to search out their solo recital CDs.

Recital discs are unusual creatures. Some are faithful to one composer. Some try to capture the mood of a specific period or style. And others follow a programmatic narrative. Each has its own merits and on the whole are normally enjoyable whatever format they take. In the case of Ms Gauvin, accompanied by Il Complesso Barocco, she has dedicated the whole disc to Nicola Porpora, a contemporary of Handel. Marie-Nicole Lemieux, with the Orchestra National de France conducted by Fabien Gabel, has created a disc derived from French opera from the late 1780s to the early 1890s. A separate review will follow shortly.

So first to Ms Gauvin’s disc. The entire recital – as I have already mentioned – is drawn from operas and serenatas by Nicola Porpora. Two operas written specifically for London – Arianna in Nasso, Polifemo and La Festa d’Imeneo – provide the majority of the arias in this recital. During this time he was employed by the Opera Of The Nobility to best Handel, but considering that during that time Handel composed Ariodante and Alcina, it is hardly surprising that the ‘noble’ enterprise failed. Interestingly Gauvin/Curtis do not perform the arias in strict chronological order – Adelaide (1723); Ezio (1728); Polifemo (1735); Imeneo (1723); Angelica (1720) & Arianna in Nasso (1733). Additionally Handel himself composed operas on Ezio (1732), Imeneo (1740) and of course Acis and Galatea in English in 1718.

On the strength of this recital disc, Porpora was not a bad composer and in fact, while he does not attain the brilliance of Handel’s greatest arias, it is easy to see why they thought he could rival the Saxon.

The arias from Polifemo are well crafted and – as with Arianna in Nasso – can be directly compared with Handel as they were written to compete. The arioso-style of Aci, Amato mio bene for example with it’s recorders and mood swings is a highlight of the recital and well sung by Gauvin. The subsequent siciliana, Smanie with it’s delicate coloratura and interplay between the vocal line and the violins is equally memorable.

The arias from Adelaide, Nobil Onde and Non sempre invendicata, with the runs, trills and generous use of martial trumpets clearly show that Porpora was writing for particularly skilled singers and, more importantly, knew how to write for the voice. Non son io che parlo from Ezio has a particularly pathetic yet beautiful character as does Mi chiederesti from Imeneo and in fact there is something remarkably similar about them. Another notable aria is drawn from Angelica. With its suspensions and use of dramatic pauses its an unusually beautiful aria to be found in a serenata, and clearly the event for which it was written at the Palazzo del Principe di Torella was of particular significance.

Arianna in Nasso, might predate Polifemo but is the stronger of the two ‘London’ operas and therefore awarded more space in the recital. Following the overture, with it’s modified French-style structure, it’s easy to see why the Nobility thught they might be onto a ‘winner’. Il tuo dolce mormorio and Misera sventurata with it’s oboe obbligato are particularly fine. The final aria Si caro ti consola comes the closest to Handel in terms of beauty and musicianship with dramatic recitative interrupting and replacing the aria and makes a fitting ending to the recital.

Karina Gauvin, Alan Curtis and Il Complesso Barocco make more than an eloquent argument for Porpora with this disc. Even more than at Ariodante at the Barbican, Ms Gauvin displays a very sure and confident technique balanced with intelligent singing and embellishment. Perhaps because it is a studio recording, her tone sounds warmers and more silken. She clearly enjoys the arias and her diction is clean and meaningful, and while it is well-nigh impossible to impart any sense of character, she makes a real bid to make these characters seem more than one dimensional.

I know that Il Complesso Barocco is not everyone’s cup of tea, but personally I think they are a great band of players. As on their Handel recordings they play with great sensitivity and style.

I did read somewhere that Handel was directly influenced by – and in some cases plagiarised from – his contemporaries. And while very few of these arias stand the comparison test, there are moment when my memory was pleasantly jolted. So if you like Handel operas, and on the merit of the performances on this disc, then this recital would make more than simply an interesting addition to your collection.

Alan Curtis and Il Complesso Barocco are one of the leading – if not the premier – original instrument ensembles at the moment. Their recordings of Handel’s operas are second to none and Curtis always assembles the strongest and most distinctive case.

The evening’s concert performance of Ariodante– part of a promotional tour for the new recording that they have just released – was no different. A quick glance at the cast – with three leading baroque specialists in the lead roles – meant that on paper it could not disappoint and in reality it exceeded expectation.

Ariodante has never been one of my favourite Handel operas. I have – like many people I think – enjoyed individual arias from the work, but previously the opera as a whole has not appealed. I can safely say that after this evening’s performance that has changed. I will be listening to their new recording of the opera with renewed interest.

Joyce DiDonato is a superlative, intelligent and charismatic performer. I first saw her in Hercules at the Barbican theatre in 2006 and – I must admit – have been a fan ever since. Her voice is beautifully round, robust and even through her whole – and extensive – range and she throws out pin-point precise coloratura. And her dynamic control, of light and shade, is always well judged. It is breathtaking how she can simply float a high note as was demonstrated this evening.

But what sets DiDonato apart from many of her colleagues is how she inhabits the character she is singing. And tonight was no different. A stunning performance throughout, with a real sense of intelligence and insight of the lead character but for me – and I think many people in the auditorium – the standout moment was Scherza infida. Of course this is the most famous aria in the opera, and in Handel’s entire operatic output, but tonight was truly special. From the recitative immediately preceding, as Ariodante she was a broken man. Not only in her acting – and indeed she seemed to almost shrink into herself – but even how she modulated her voice into what can only be described as sobs. It was a searing interpretation and the whole audience seemed to collectively hold its breath until the final bar faded.

Yet this aria was merely the highpoint of an outstanding performance. Through every aria, from the pastoral arioso Qui d’amor nel suo linguaggio, the menacing Tu preparati a morire in the second act to the final, thrilling Dopo notte atra e funeste, with its perfectly executed, show-stopping bravura, DiDonato portrayed a character going through every emotion in the book.

Yet unlike many performances where one singer stands alone, this performance of Ariodante was different. DiDonato was one of a sterling team of singers.

Karina Gauvin as her spouse, created a Ginevra who was as human as her hero. Again from her opening Vezzi, lusinghe, e brio to her masterful final scenes of the Second Act, Gauvin delivered an amazing performance. Before the audience she went from princess-in-love to princess-on-the-edge, and made even her most difficult coloratura seem effortless and she spun her silvery voice around the notes.

Yet for me, the most pleasant surprise of the evening was Lemieux’s Polinesso. In her swagger it immediately reminded me of Kassarova’s Ruggiero from a recent performance of Alcina. With a rich, velvety voice Lemieux revelled in her character, again alternating between throwing off brilliant and effortless coloratura and beautiful legato phrases. Dover, giustizia, amor was particularly memorable. Indeed, this evening I have returned home and downloaded her latest album – Ne me refuse pas – Airs d’opéras français – and cannot wait to listen to it.

And what made each of their performances seem even more vital and alert was the incredible attention they paid to diction.

The rest of the cast, Matthew Brooks’ King, Nicholas Phan’s Lurcanio and last-minute stand-in, Sam Furness as Odoardo were all very good. Sabina Puértolas as Dalinda was a completely new singer to me. Her bright, light and flexible soprano was a delight and I look forward to hearing her again.

Needless to say Alan Curtis and Il Complesso Barocco were exemplary in their support of the singers. Special mention must be made of the horn players who acquitted themselves more than admirably.

It is clear that Curtis is unrivalled in his understanding of, sympathy with and interpretation of Handel’s music. Tempos were perfect and the recitatives flow naturally.

I read in the programme that Giulio Cesare, Arianna in Creta and Agrippina are listed as future engagements and I, for one, cannot wait.

But this evening definitely belonged to the ladies. And the audiences showed their grateful appreciation.